Part 4 (2/2)

THE HUNCHBACK

The shadows were already falling on that side of the range as the boys rode slowly into a narrow pa.s.s. The shade was a decided relief from the glare of the California sun that they had encountered all day.

”Gosh, but I should like to have a cool breath from the Rockies,”

declared Juarez with emphasis, ”This sort of a climate makes me tired.

Nothing but the sun staring at you all the time. It goes down clear and comes up with the same kind of a grin on its face.”

”It will be cooler when we get on the other side,” said Jim, encouragingly, ”and it won't be long now.”

”I hope we will strike water on the other side,” remarked Jo. ”I'm tired of looking at that bald-headed stream down there,” indicating the dry blistered bed of a former water-course.

Nothing more was said until of a sudden they rode to the top of the Pa.s.s, and saw a new landscape spread out before them.

It was a broad and beautiful view, with the sun striking the wide Pacific, with a blazing glare of silver and below the wooded slope of the mountains, stretched an apparently level plain, where roamed countless cattle, and innumerable sheep. It had all the breadth characteristic of the Californian landscape.

”That's a pretty good looking view,” remarked Jim admiringly. He would have been still more interested if he could have seen a trim-looking black vessel in a small cove directly west but a good many miles distant.

”I wonder if it isn't going to rain,” said Tom. ”See those clouds rolling in over the ocean.”

”Rain!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jim with superior wisdom, a wisdom that appertains particularly to older brothers, ”I guess not. Those are fog clouds.

That's a sure sign in this country that it won't rain.”

”Well, I'm glad to see them, anyway,” said Juarez. ”It looks sort of stormy even if it isn't.”

It was restful, there was no question about that, the change from the constant glare of a white sun in a blue sky, to the soft damp grayness of the fog. It was already rolling over the level plain towards the mountains and, in a short time, a high fog was spread over the whole sky.

The boys had ridden down the western side of the range for a distance of a half mile, when Jim suddenly waved his hand backward in a sign of caution for the column to halt. He leaned forward, looking intently in a northwesterly direction to a point on the opposite side of the mountain valley. Juarez followed the direction of the leader's look with a keen gaze.

”I was sure that I saw some one slipping through the undergrowth on the opposite side over there,” Jim finally said, ”but I could not make sure whether it was a man or some sort of animal.”

”I noticed the bushes shaking,” said Juarez, ”but I did not see anything.”

”Might have been a brown bear,” hazarded Jo.

”They do have them in this range,” put in Tom.

”Perhaps it is the bear that we hunted for two days on the other slope,”

said Juarez, ”and he has come to give himself up.”

”We had better keep our eyes open,” advised Jim, though he did not take the trouble to unsling his rifle. ”Jo, you and Tom watch the upper side, Juarez will take care of the trail in front.”

”All right, boss,” said Juarez, cheerfully.

”How much reward, captain, for the first glimpse of the lost child?”

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